


The Unexpected Tale of Guinevere and Lancelot

by TheSadisticMunchkin



Series: 30 Days of Hamburr Challenge [15]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 30 Days of Hamburr, 30 Days of Writing, ;), Alex is competitive, Alex is in a dress what more do you want, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BODY PAINTER AARON BURR IS BACK!!, Falling In Love, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Light Angst, M/M, OFC - Freeform, kind of, not rly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6535636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSadisticMunchkin/pseuds/TheSadisticMunchkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was anybody who deserved dress-up bragging rights, it was Alexander Hamilton. Alex loved bragging about shit he’s done more than anyone else in the world. Aaron didn’t deserve to have those tiny, insignificant trophies on his shelf every year.</p><p>Alex was going to take what was rightfully his next year.</p><p>Day 15 of the 30 Days of Hamburr Self-Induced Challenge of 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unexpected Tale of Guinevere and Lancelot

**Author's Note:**

> idk what this is???? it has more plot and confusion than I intended i SWEAR. if you don't get it, it's fine. i don't either
> 
> Random dedication of the day goes to kikaslovs!

“The winner this year is… Well, there’s no surprise there,  _ Aaron Burr!” _

 

_ Motherfucking shit on a stick. _

 

Alexander watched with narrowed eyes as Burr took the tiny trophy from Jefferson on the elevated stage. He would have admitted that Burr’s vampire costume looked  _ disturbingly real  _ if he wanted to. He would have admitted that his fake fangs looked  _ impossibly sharp  _ if he wanted to. He also would have admitted his cape and suit made him look  _ dashingly handsome  _ if he wanted to. But he didn’t want to.

 

He wanted to  _ destroy  _ Aaron Burr.

 

Now, Alex wasn’t much of a party person but boy did he love dressing up. When he was a kid newly adopted by George Washington, he always had the best costumes. He always made sure each fabric had certain details or each prop looked as real as possible. He hated going to the generic costume shops and Washington got the memo once when he set one of the vampire costumes on fire. He always claimed it was an accident but his father knew better. Martha gave him a massage that day.

 

He was the  _ king  _ of dress-up and he was convinced that no one was going to take that crown from him. So when he was surprisingly invited to one of Jefferson’s legendary halloween parties 3 years ago, he made sure that he had the best costume ever. He worked weeks on the costume and he came out with the most solid zombie ensemble complete with makeup and fake blood dripping from his mouth. He was absolutely sure that he was going to win Jefferson’s contest.

 

Then in came Aaron  _ fucking  _ Burr who wore a Wolverine costume that was all  _ handpainted.  _ No, it wasn’t some fabrics sewn together and he painted it. Aside from the obvious genital area, he handpainted his bare skin into Wolverine’s costume from the original comic book series. Aaron even made himself look as  _ shiny  _ as a newly unwrapped comic book from the shelves. Alex was fuming when he got home that night.

 

He couldn’t admit defeat after that so he tried again.

 

He dressed up as an Egyptian Pharaoh the next year. Aaron won for his realistic body painted zombie, which Alexander dressed up as  _ the year before.  _ This year he dressed up as a pretty damn convincing psychotic bride-to-be. Peggy actually looked nervous around him and clutched on to her fiance tighter each time he passed by. He thought he had it in the bag this year. Who doesn't love a guy wearing a dress?

 

Everyone seemed to only love Aaron’s body painted suit and red eye contacts. Next year, Alexander was going to rip those fake fangs right out of his gums. If there was anybody who deserved  _ dress-up bragging rights,  _ it was Alexander Hamilton. Alex loved bragging about shit he’s done more than anyone else in the world. Aaron didn’t deserve to have those tiny, insignificant trophies on his shelf every year.

 

Alex was going to take what was rightfully his next year.

* * *

 

He has never been more disappointed in  _ King George III’s Discount British Shop  _ until now.

 

He should be ashamed with himself for going there but honestly it was the only place he could get quality fabrics without having to suck his entire bank account dry. If there was any other place to get the material for his awesome costumes, it was here. Although it was almost infuriating to hear George himself call out “You’ll be back!” whenever he leaves, he had to admit that he always did end up back in the store.

 

One day he was going to punch the British bitch in the face.

 

But of course on the week he was going to buy his stuff, Aaron Burr was there too. Will he never get rid of this guy? First he ended up in the same law firm as him the day after the Halloween party he first won, then he suddenly lived right across from him, now he shopped at the same  _ store  _ as him. He decided to follow him around the store, see what he was planning next. It was always a good idea to scope out the competition.

 

Of course he follows him into the paint tools aisle, the fucking  _ art hoe.  _ Alex was starting to get the feeling that Aaron only wins because he does body art and it infuriates him. He works just as hard in making his costumes. He spends so much money on fabrics and sewing materials. He doesn’t resent Burr because he doesn’t work as hard as him, oh no. He sees the hard work he puts into his paintings.

 

But there were other works of art and Jefferson refused to see them.

 

Just as Aaron turned around, Hamilton ducked into another aisle so he wouldn’t be seen stalking him. It wasn’t like he  _ was  _ stalking him. He was just curious as to what was his next costume. He clutched his basket of fabrics tightly in his hand and shook his head vigorously.  _ No.  _ He was going to win this year. No one was going to top him this time. He was going to be the king of dress-up once again and Aaron Burr won’t get in his way this year.

 

This was the year of Hamilton.

* * *

 

The music was blasting in his ears and his heartbeat matched the bass thumping across the floor. His friend, Lafayette, was dressed as the great fictional knight Lancelot this year which almost fit perfectly with his costume. His french knight’s armor clinked merrily along with his too many glasses of beer and Alexander only shook his head at how he practically had Jefferson under his armpit almost the entire time.

 

2 hours into the night, he realized Aaron Burr was nowhere to be seen. That was strange since Burr was usually early to the party so that everyone had a chance to have a picture of him in his new costume. Alexander smirked at that. Maybe he was so embarrassed by his creation this year that he decided to scrap it altogether and not go to the party. Yeah, that’s right. Nobody was in his way now of claiming that tiny trophy that names him the winner of the costume contest.

 

Who could beat an authentic Guinevere costume complete with a golden tiara? He had to pay big money just to get the tiara made. He was  _ this  _ close to winning last year when he wore a dress. How about go all out? The fictional queen to Lafayette’s fictional knight just seemed so fitting. The corset was a little tight fitting but he repeated in his head that  _ beauty is pain.  _ He could only imagine how women back then felt with the wardrobe of Arthurian legend.

 

It did make his waist smaller, though. He actually looked like medieval age queen. If he couldn’t be the king of dress up, he might as well be a queen. Queens were awesome anyway. “My queen, I believe another knight approaches us! Should I fight him for your honor?” Lafayette threw an arm around Alexander’s tinier waist and drew him to his side with a fake glare towards the entrance of the room. Lo and behold, Alex found who Lafayette was looking for and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

 

It was Aaron Burr.

 

He was also dressed as Lancelot but most of the parts were  _ painted.  _

 

He had armor here and there but the majority of his costume was painted realistically on his body. He shouldn’t be surprised, he did this all the time, but this year he pulled out  _ all  _ the stops. He made it as if the painted parts of his body also shined in the light. The way he painted it was so intricate that even the add-ons he put that weren’t painted looked like they were connected to his skin. The most impressive parts were his shield and sword, which he also handpainted.

 

Actually no. Scratch that. The most impressive part was the fact that  _ Aaron Burr got fucking buff.  _ Alexander didn’t even  _ know  _ that Burr was actually this hot. He knew he was a good-looking guy, handsome even, but never in his lifetime has he seen his co-worker as fucking hot. “Oh  _ fuck  _ no…” He practically whimpered as Lafayette stomped his feet like a whiny child because he was supposed to be the only Lancelot in this entire party.

 

“But Burr looks _très beau, no?”_

 

Oh,  _ très beau _ was a fucking understatement.

 

He was  _ extrêmement baisable. _

 

Jefferson saw this as an opportunity to duck out of Lafayette’s vice-like grip and he ran over to greet Burr who looked like he was going to win the costume contest. Again. This time though, Alexander didn’t seem to mind because  _ how could someone get that hot within one year?  _ It made no sense for Burr to go through that transformation. It was also unfair. “This is so unfair.” He mumbled as he took one of the glasses of beer from the table next to him and chugged it all at once.

 

Lafayette raised an eyebrow at that and gave him a knowing smirk. “Petit lion, are you alright? You look a little thirsty.”  _ Lafeyette, you’re a french fuckwad and I hate you.  _ Alexander only glared at him and hitched his skirt up enough so he could walk through the crowd with purpose. He didn’t need to hear it from his friends. He didn’t need to hear it from himself. This sudden attraction to Aaron Burr was just a fleeting thing and he was going to get over it the second he left the party.

 

The contest was meaningless anyway. He didn’t know why he even tried.

 

He pushed through the crowd, avoiding contact with anybody, and ran down the hallway as soon as he left the room. Somehow, he found himself sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building with his shoes dangling at the edge. He was wiping the ridiculous makeup he had on and his golden crown was practically teetering off the edge of the roof but he didn’t even care anymore. He wasn’t quite sure why he cared about the costume contests in the first place.

 

It was just a stupid contest anyway, right? The fact that Aaron won every year should have been a fucking sign to him but why did he keep doing it? Was it because he was filled with so much rage that someone was better than him at something? Was it because Aaron seemed to get under his skin with everything he did? Or was it because he pitied himself and he wanted to validate himself in the only way he knew how.

 

_ Pretending to be someone he wasn’t. _

 

It’s crazy. He was Alexander Hamilton, the man who wore his heart on the soles of his shoes and stomped on it repeatedly. He knew who he was.  _ Everyone knew who he was.  _ So why was he finding a sort of purpose at pretending to be someone else? Why did he like dressing up so much? It wasn’t even a matter of identity, it was a matter of satisfaction. Was he not satisfied with who he was? Was he not satisfied with what he has done?

 

Was he not satisfied with who he  _ wasn’t with?  _

 

He was so used to being the best that he couldn’t stand someone else being better than him. That was something his adoptive father always told him to work on but he never really listened. Who could be better than him anyway? He told his dad that nobody could be better than him with what he did, not in court, not in writing, and definitely not in Halloween costumes.

 

In comes Aaron Burr, who shattered his reality with a single swipe of his brush.

 

He should have known when he spoke in court. He should have known when he walked into the party 3 years ago. He should have known when he partnered up with him for the Weeks case. He should have known that maybe the world was wide enough for him and Burr. What was the point of trying to take him down? It wasn’t like Burr was actively trying to humiliate him by being good at what he did. Besides, his body paint transformations were nothing but absolutely  _ gorgeous. _

 

He just needed to recognize that.

 

Now he did.

 

It took him this long to recognize his ignorance, selfishness and possible attraction to Burr, on the rooftop of all places, but was it going to take this long to apologize? Did he even need to apologize? Maybe he just needed to talk to Burr and try to figure out who he was. He never did understand him for the past 3 years they’ve been working together, wouldn’t this be the perfect time to start over? Maybe they could get a drink afterwards. The thought of that was nice.

 

Before he could go down and find him, Burr found him first. The door to the rooftop creaked open behind him as he was getting ready to leave. Burr stood in the doorway with a book in his hand and a tumbler of some unknown drink in the other. He was dressed in a loose red t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Alexander figured he must have left the party but that couldn’t be. He had to have won the contest first and the awarding didn’t happen until midnight, the hour it struck Halloween.

 

Alexander checked his watch - he didn’t have to be  _ totally  _ authentic to his costume - and was surprised to see that it was 1am. He left the party at 11. It was already Halloween before he even knew it and there Aaron Burr was staring at him with a blank expression. He looked down at himself and blushed furiously. Right. He was still in his dress. Well, he removed the outer layers until he was only wearing the bottom most layer and the corset. 

 

Still. Having Aaron Burr find out you’ve just been hanging out on the roof, almost naked by medieval standards, instead of partying downstairs was something he didn’t want ever happening. But it happened. He wanted there to be a random hole to swallow him up and drop him back into his room so that he could pretend none of this ever happened. “Hello.” He said to break the uncomfortable silence and Burr opened his mouth a little but closed it again as if he didn’t know what to say.

 

What could one say to a crying man in a dress on a rooftop at 1am?

 

It would leave even  _ Alexander  _ speechless if he were in Burr’s shoes, or in this case, fuzzy panda slippers.

 

“So that’s where you were this entire time.” Burr finally breathed out quietly and Alex shrugged his shoulders lightly. He couldn’t blame him. He left the party before Burr was even able to spend 5 minutes in the room. “I was looking for you.”

 

“Looking for me?” Alex asked, a little appalled by the the weird prospect of Aaron Burr looking specifically for  _ him.  _

 

“Yeah… I wanted to know what your costume was.” He rubbed the back of his neck a little as he gave Alex a once-over. Normally, Alex would have felt a little violated with someone looking at him with such a calculated expression but suddenly when it was Burr he didn’t mind at all. It was something about the way he had just the smallest light of admiration in what he could do. “Let me guess, Guinevere? You look beautiful, dear lady.” Hamilton laughed at Burr’s surprisingly accurate guess.

 

“Speak for yourself, Lancelot. Your costume was breathtaking as always, Burr.” He punched Aaron’s shoulder lightly and he was amused to see him duck his head a little at the praise. He never really had the chance to be this close to Aaron Burr. Even when he partnered up with him for several cases, he always kept a safe distance. What mattered then was their client, not checking out Aaron’s ass in his admittedly tight slacks. He was delighted to see that he was even more good-looking up close. Did he really just waste 3 years hating on the guy?

 

“T-Thanks. I worked really hard on it all month.”

 

“It shows.”

 

“You’re too kind, sir.” Aaron said as he lightly pushed past him towards the edge of the rooftop. Alex watched as he placed his tumbler and book on the ledge. Aaron turned around to face him and the little office lights from the buildings behind him cast a soft glow on him that made him look almost ethereal. It’s amazing how your view of a person could change in one night. He barely said anything to him and he was already intrigued by him.

 

He wanted to know  _ more. _

 

Now, he had two choices. He could either bid Aaron a good night and leave him with his drink and waiting story or he could actually do what he has always wanted to do for over three years.  _ Talk to Aaron.  _ His heart always said yes but his brain always said no to this. His brain always said to never get close to him. 

 

He decided to go with his heart today. His brain always got him into trouble.

 

“You know, I was always fascinated with how you painted your body every year. It was always so… detailed and lovingly done.” He walked towards him and slowly sat down next to Aaron, closer than he intended. “When did you start getting into body painting?” Aaron seemed almost surprised that anyone asked him about his craft and Alexander felt guilty for that. He was too blinded with trying to beat him that he wasn’t focused with what was right in front of him.

 

He liked what was right in front of him.

 

“It has always been a hobby of mine. It’s actually not that hard if you really get into it.” He scooted a little bit in his place, which prompted their hands to brush slightly. Alex made sure not to move his hand away so that Aaron would get the idea. Aaron was a clever man, he always knew that. He was proven correct when his co-worker stared at their hands for a little longer and looked up at him with a questioning look in his eyes. “You know, I always admired how you can make your costumes.”

 

“Oh please, don’t deviate the topic from you.”

 

“But it’s true!” Aaron moved even closer until their hands were touching this time. Aaron didn’t seem to make a show of moving his hand away so Alex didn’t either. The warmth of Aaron’s fingers on his was an unfamiliar but welcome touch. “The things you can do with a sewing machine and a glue gun! Honestly, I wish I could do that.” 

 

“Maybe I could teach you to sew and you can teach me to paint?”

 

Aaron’s eyes brightened up a little bit at the proposition but bit his lip in hesitance. Alex got a little worried at the gesture. Maybe he was going too fast. Alex did have a knack of never really slowing down until he needed to. A few seconds into the unannounced staring contest between the two lawyers did Alexander realize that Aaron was just  _ thinking.  _ He was searching for something in his eyes that he couldn’t quite place. 

 

“Do you have the patience for it?” He finally said and Alex snorted a little bit at that. If there was one thing that Hamilton was bad at, it was waiting. Yet the way that Aaron was looking at him expectantly, almost nervous that Alex would say no, how could he deny him? From his body language alone, Alexander guessed roughly that Aaron was probably only acting on what he was feeling now. Whatever feeling it was, it worked in Alex’s favor and he hoped that maybe that feeling could be something more.

 

He wanted it to be something more.

 

He wanted it to be something more  _ so bad. _

 

“I do if you’re willing to teach me.” 

 

Aaron’s smile widened and he nodded. “Then I’m at your service, sir.” Alex matched Burr’s smile exponentially and finally properly intertwined their fingers together in the meanwhile.

 

“As am I, sir.”

* * *

 

The next year, both of them won the costume contest.

**Author's Note:**

> You know what to do now, I guess. It's the halfway mark.


End file.
